Page 6 of The Good Billionaire (Billionaire Hart #1)

But the sensation had stopped. Clearing the haze from my eyes, I saw her ass wiggle away in a short skirt as she headed toward the elevators. The key card on the table gone.

Game on...

“THIS IS CRAZY, RIGHT ?” I lifted Kennedy and pressed her back against the elevator wall.

“Considering I’m trying to divorce you,” she answered me, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Very.”

“Look how that’s working out.” I pushed harder against her, trying to get as close as possible.

I gazed into her violet eyes sparkling again and they struck me like the first time I’d seen them ten years ago. Last weekend during the surgery, anger clouded the color. The grayish-blue had popped off her creamy skin at the bakery after I kissed her. Now they blazed with lust.

Even though we were humping in a New York City hotel elevator, I swore I tasted the briny air of Johns Hopkins Medical School. Memories of the first time we’d had sex flooded me. How good it’d felt to slide into her knowing I’d been the only guy to do so. That she’d waited for me.

That feeling returned to me. No way had she been with someone else. Neither had I.

Her tongue boldly swept into my mouth with kisses that always unglued me. She only stopped kissing me to run her hands all over me like she’d die if she didn’t touch every inch of my chest.

Waiting to reach the penthouse floor, I dropped more kisses on Kennedy’s mouth and tasted the cabernet on her lips.

I’d never wanted her so much. I’d never wanted anything that much.

When she left me, she’d taken what was left of my sex drive with her.

I punished her in that elevator with kisses growing more possessive with every sip of her lips.

If she asked again for the divorce, I may be an idiot and sign the papers just so she wouldn’t stop kissing me. Nothing compared to this glorious mouth of hers. Both on my lips and my dick.

Kennedy kissed me harder in that elevator and sent me hurdling into so many flashbacks, reminding me how ravenous she’d once been for me. How I thought I’d hit the jackpot finding a woman who couldn’t get enough sex.

Why was that damn elevator so slow?

“This doesn’t change anything,” Kennedy said, squeezing my cock now, licking her lips.

Jeez, if she went down on me, that was a fucking game-changer for me.

This better not be a dream.

Would having sex change anything? Feeling her against me now answered that question.

The explosion of heat between us confirmed what I suspected for six months: there was no way she really wanted a divorce.

This past week proved that despite all the ignored texts, she wasn’t impervious to my charm.

She just needed a blaring green light. And I was no better, I melted from a hand job.

“This is so good,” I breathed, lifting her again. “Let’s just...”

The elevator door to the penthouse level opened and Luke jumped back. “Hey, Seb. Hey, Kennedy. You two made up?”

I put my wife down and glared at Luke. “Shhh,” I hushed my cousin. “We’re still together, remember?”

“Looks that way to me.” Luke shrugged, adjusting shiny cufflinks that matched his hair, spun gold, thick, and swept up. Chicks fell over themselves for those blue eyes and women had often mistaken us for brothers, citing our near-identical chiseled features.

“Don’t you look nice.” Kennedy pushed her skirt down to hide creamy thighs I wanted to lick all night. “Are you wearing that tux to the wedding?”

Luke threw on an overcoat. “No. This is my fundraiser tux.”

“And it’s getting quite a workout,” Tristan said, coming out of the second elevator. “Tom is waiting for you.”

“If I’m fun, people will think the hotel is fun, Tristan,” Luke chided him.

“That’s a horrible marketing strategy, Luke,” Tristan murmured as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

I seized Kennedy’s hot little hand, almost grateful for the break and the Hart brothers bickering. I’d not had sex in close to a year and after one more stroke, I’d lose it in my pants.

“Am I tearing up those divorce papers?” Luke asked from inside the elevator. He may have taken a leave of absence from his law firm to run the hotel, but Kennedy had sent him her divorce papers.

“No,” she said and smirked at me.

“Yes,” I called out.

The elevator closed and Tristan shook his head. My cousin then turned back to me and Kennedy. I’d already started making out with her again, my hands gripping her ass. Sensing I was being watched, I stopped and glowered at my cousin.

“Do you need something, Tristan?” I asked, inching my wife down the hall toward Grayson’s sweet empty crib. “This was your idea.”

“Actually...” Tristan started and I groaned, wanting to hit my head against the wall. “I checked that thing we just talked about and it’s a go. If you...want.”

“ Thing ,” Kennedy mocked Tristan. “What’s the thing ?”

I dropped back a step and put a finger against my lips to shut him the fuck up. Tristan better not have answered Kennedy and spill how I considered crashing his annual singles cruise leaving Monday.

I took a breath and tugged Kennedy closer. “It’s a surprise for Savannah.” I hated dragging my sister into the lie. Or thinking about her when all I wanted to do was bury my cock deep inside the only woman I’ve ever loved.

“Whatever,” Kennedy said. “You four Hart boys are always playing games.”

That we were.

“Goodbye, Tristan.” I grabbed my wife and swiped into Grayson’s penthouse apartment.

“Which is Gray’s bedroom?” Kennedy asked as we breezed past the foyer, the open kitchen, and a living room with leather sofas and mirrored walls.

“Last time I was up here I saw him come out of that one.” I pointed to a hallway that led to bedrooms.

Kennedy rolled her eyes. “He was naked, wasn’t he?” She scanned the rest of the place with a curious gaze as if she were picturing the six-foot-five actor and his naked ass on every piece of furniture.

“Hey, you don’t need to be thinking about my cousin prancing around here naked. You’ve got me. Ready and waiting for you, Kennedy.” I walked backward down the hall, sliding off my sports jacket.

“Ready, huh?” Kennedy returned the seductive move by unbuttoning her blouse.

Her fluid and natural move startled me. Like being single had turned her into a sex kitten. Was I still the only man to ever have her? Taste her? Bury myself balls deep with and without a condom in her?

Christ, I couldn’t handle the word yes coming off her plump lips answering that question. Or any variation of my horrifying concerns.

Tonight, I wouldn’t ask any more questions.